


Are You Tired of Me Yet

by empathy_junkie



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Author being bad at math, Blood and Injury, Cab Rides, Conflicting Feelings, Hospitals, Internal Monologue, Other, author being sappy and dumb, sleep-deprived thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17922611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empathy_junkie/pseuds/empathy_junkie
Summary: reiji is tired and the fact that his only companion almost died isn't sitting well with him.p.s. alex you absolute wonder I love you and you deserve the world.





	Are You Tired of Me Yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yotsu8a](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yotsu8a/gifts).



Kyosuke would kill him for getting a cab.

Reiji had been chewing on the previous seven hours of another endless day when the thought occurred to him, and desperate for some kind of respite, he allowed it to distract him. Just as he had done with the distinct cigarette flavoring of the ancient Toyota, minutes ago.

Strictly speaking, since coming to America, neither Kyosuke nor Reiji had established measures against hailing cabs. There had been several times in the past few months in which it had been deemed necessary for one reason or another. Intoxication, injury, inclement weather - that had been during the earlier days, to be fair. Before their bodies had become part of the dead landscape about them - simply another feature of their degradation. What was a little rain? What was a crowd of half-naked drunks in a quiet midnight street? 

But this was neither.

This was an 8am ride to the hospital on no sleep and a quarter bottle of Sky. This was a ride sitting on bruises and nail-marks that weren't gifted by the skeletal man with which Reiji had shared many, many nights. This was a taste of familiarity that had miraculously brushed up against his hardened senses and brought a sigh of relief. So the situation was accepted as-was.

Besides, it wasn't like they had chosen their latest motel with the hospital's proximity in mind.

In fact, they hadn't employed such levels of strategy since the nightmare had begun. Not jointly, anyway. It could be called strategizing when Reiji had stuffed the baby-doll under the mini-fridge because he couldn't physically stand to spend one more moment in the empty room than he had to, but that would be generous. And he had no use for 'generous'. He was managing things just fine.

Whatever he chose to call his latest endeavors made no difference, so long as the man he had landed in the hospital didn't know that it was spoken.

The cab came to a slow stop in the hospital parking lot.

It had only been a few days, but already the sight exhausted him. The looming, rectangular buildings in a dusty brown color. The scene of what he had once been convinced would be Higuchi Kyosuke's premature death due to blood-loss. Reiji had always hated hospitals because Reiji had always hated the sick. Hated the thought that his body could end up defiled like theirs.

But there was no longer any need to worry about that. So Reiji heaved his body out of the backseat and slammed the creaking door.

Seventeen dollars gone. The night's total was under six hundred, but only just.

The automatic doors slid open.

Reiji recognized the receptionist. By now, he was accustomed to notion that other patients would stare at his disheveled appearance while the staff merely glanced at him with pity. They would still tell him what he needed to know; point him in the right direction. On average, he was admitted to see Kyosuke within half an hour. It was nothing like that first night. Reiji still refused to count those hours. Or the number of times he had locked himself in the nearest bathroom stall, convinced he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen.

Whatever that was wouldn't happen again. And his partner wasn't going to die.

"Room 254," the receptionist said to Reiji's forehead as the latter signed in.

"Thank you," Reiji said to his back, voice catching a bit in his throat. It was always strange to hear his voice again, after one of those nights. It was always mesmerizing.

In a few minutes, he was rapping on Kyosuke's door.

-

"Three more days," croaked the sick man, ghostly countenance unreadable. Though Reiji had been relieved to track the modicum of progress Kyosuke had made since being admitted, it still took him a good few minutes of wordlessly tracing the man's battered silhouette before he could properly accept its reality.

Upon his admission, the doctors had discovered two broken ribs, a serious concussion, a fractured arm and a broken wrist, but after Kyosuke had been stabilized it was his extreme levels of dehydration and malnutrition which had caused the attendees alarm. Reiji had remained tight-lipped on that score, in no small part because he hadn't been able to speak for the majority of that evening but even that he had considered a gift. Who gave a fuck what conclusions the hospital staff might reach. Kyosuke had lost three teeth and more blood than Reiji had seen in his life.

But sure, a few weeks was enough time in safety. He could definitely be expected to survive if he was kicked out by then.

At least he was talking now.

"Really I can't believe they kept me this long. We're. Ha. I wish they had asked me first."

Reiji scoffed humorlessly. He leaned forward slightly in his chair and wrapped his fingers around one knee. His neck hurt. "You nearly died. You think you could have protested that? You were unconscious."

"We're broke."

"Not quite. You're still here, aren’t you?"

Kyosuke couldn't argue this. His bloodshot eyes focused on something in the middle distance before drifting shut again. Reiji continued.

"And no matter what you're imagining, you're not coming back to a blanket on the side of the road."

The wasted man laughed, tendons tightening in his chalk-colored face. "You sure about that?"

"Enough."

The single command was enough. Kyosuke relapsed into silence.

A sigh of relief slipped from between Reiji's lips. He let his head droop as he gazed helplessly at the body of the man he used to despise. His eyelashes fluttered. His chest rose and fell, drawing away from the taut fabric of the much-too-large hospital gown as it descended.

God, he was a wreck. Would be for months. Would need constant attention and assistance that only Reiji would be able to provide. And refusal hadn't even crossed his mind.

Because he's alive. That's all that matters. 

But why was it all that mattered? When had this become something to celebrate? When had the carcass of an brittle, wasted man come to mean so much to him? Higuchi Kyosuke was utterly worthless, wasn't he? What did he really provide? What did he really possess? Why did he seem like an extension of Reiji's own self? It was repugnant. They weren't in this together. It was merely that both of them had come to realize there was no getting out. Did that really make them compatriots? Weren't there thousands of useless idiots in the world - the likes of which Reiji continued to deem as subhuman at best? No. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't natural. It was -

"Thanks for coming, by the way."

It was hardly above a grunt. Reiji's back straightened immediately.

"What?"

The man in the cot repeated himself, word for word, without looking at the other.

"Thanks for coming."

Reiji blinked. Something inside of him leapt. He swung at it, trying to keep it down. Of course I came. I owe you. That's all this is. I owe it to you for what you did. I'm not so heartless as to forget that. You destroyed me. But you couldn't let it go all the way, could you? 

Reiji laughed, soundlessly. Kyosuke didn't notice. He turned his head, preparing to repeat himself again but Reiji caught the gesture in time.

"I heard you," he said.

"Oh."


End file.
